


11:42 pm

by queerly_yours



Series: tumblr prompt fills [45]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:39:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerly_yours/pseuds/queerly_yours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The distance between them was difficult. No, not just difficult. Some days it felt like an actual weight on his chest, pressing down on his sternum, digging in harder with each breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	11:42 pm

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: stoyd + things you said with too many miles between us

Boyd never thought that he’d be lying awake late at night waiting on his boyfriend to call. He glanced at the clock. The bright green number stared back at him, taunting.

11:42 pm.

He was nearly an hour late.

Boyd sighed, turned off the light, and settled in for the night. Stiles probably got hung up working on that project for his Juvenile Delinquency course. He had told Boyd on more than one occasion that the professor was a bastard, even worse than Harris, and Boyd agreed with him.

The distance between them was difficult. No, not  _just_  difficult. Some days it felt like an actual weight on his chest, pressing down on his sternum, digging in harder with each breath.  Mates weren’t meant to live this far apart and Deaton warned them that it wouldn’t be easy. But Stiles was accepted to school in Chicago and Boyd needed to stay close to the pack. The Nemeton still drew in the supernatural, a siren song for the wicked.

Derek needed him.

The pack needed him.

So he stayed.

He woke, heart hammering in his chest, to Nicki Minaj’s “Anaconda,” Stiles’ ringtone. It never failed to make him roll his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to change it. Stiles stole his phone in the beginning and set that as his ringtone. It was probably supposed to annoy him, but it didn’t. It made him smile with fondness every time, remembering their first date under the stars.

He rolled over, hit answer.

Neither of them spoke a word at first, just breathed into the receiver, a gentle reminder that the other was safe and whole.

It was Stiles who broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Vernon.”

“I know,” Boyd replied. “You working on that project again?”

Stiles sighed, one part relief, one exasperation. “Yeah.”

Quiet again except for the rustling of fabric and creak of springs Boyd could hear on the other line. He could imagine Stiles’ dorm room with perfect clarity. The rust spot on the ceiling tile above the twin sized mattress. The worn, red and blue plaid comforter. The picture of him and Stiles on his side table. Boyd’s face tucked into Stiles’ neck, both of them laughing with their eyes closed.

“You still there?” Stiles asked quietly.

“I miss you,” Boyd answered.

Stiles huffed out a breath. “I miss you, too. Every day.”

Boyd hummed in agreement, closed his eyes. “It doesn’t feel like home without you here.” His smooth baritone voice cracked at the end. He rubbed his eyes. Today had been hard, too hard. He wanted Stiles here, pressed against him, a reminder that he was real and whole. Loved. His honey-eucalyptus-mint scent soaking into Boyd’s sheets. His erratic heartbeat calming into a slow rhythm with Boyd’s. The undeniable feeling of rightness that settled into every part of his being when he and Stiles were together.

“I know,” Stiles replied, sad and resigned. “Two more weeks and I’ll be there. I’ll be home.”

“Okay. I love you.” He needed to say it,  _needed_  to hear it.

“As I love you.”

That was it, all he needed. He could make it the next two weeks or two years as long as he had Stiles there to tell him those three words. The only ones that mattered.


End file.
